


In One Word

by legere_et_scribere_amo



Series: Jamilton One Shots [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Fluffy, I'm Sorry, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 18:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15274059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legere_et_scribere_amo/pseuds/legere_et_scribere_amo
Summary: If you asked Thomas Jefferson to describe Alexander Hamilton in one word, his answer would drastically change depending on when exactly you were to ask that question.





	In One Word

**Author's Note:**

> another jamilton one shot :D
> 
> enjoyy ;D
> 
> ps. i'm sorry for the ending :'(

If you asked Thomas Jefferson to describe Alexander Hamilton in one word, his answer would drastically change depending on when exactly you were to ask that question.

For example, had you asked him before he started his new job, his one-word answer would have been ‘who’. The name would have seemed vaguely familiar, not connected to any face nor accomplishment, simply there, in the back of his head. His demeanor would have been slightly annoyed, having better things to do than _describe some guy he didn’t know in one word_.

When asked to describe Alexander Hamilton right after meeting him, Thomas’ answer would have been ‘pushy’. His tone would have been neutral, still deliberating whether ‘enthusiastic’ would have been the better answer. Seeing him, Hamilton, for the first time had been _quite something_. Pushing away the CEO of the company, George Washington, just to be the first one to shake Thomas’ hand was an amusing sight, yet the fact that he hadn’t even been reprimanded was an indication on how many liberties the younger man had, not caring about manners or position within an chain of command.

Had you asked him about a week later, giving him the time to form a better informed first impression of his new co-worker, his response would have come in a second. Insufferable. The man was a burden, an annoyance. Thomas couldn’t do his job without having every single one of his motions immediately countered by Hamilton, who would talk and talk and talk relentlessly, always finding reasons why the company should do what he proposed, not what Thomas proposed.

Another month later, his answer would have softened from ‘insufferable’ to ‘annoying’. He had gotten used to Hamilton’s demeanor, realizing that he didn’t talk that much to annoy others, but simply to fight for his principles. It didn’t make him any less irritating, but, in Thomas’ eyes, it made him look less like a machine and more human. That wasn’t to say their fights were any more civil than before, still nearly escalating into fist fights regularly, but now, at least, he understood where Hamilton was coming from.

After he had reached this insight, Thomas’ answer wouldn’t change for a long time. It wasn’t until George Washington, almost a year later, forced them to work together on a project, that the response altered; now it became ‘tolerable’. The project was a long term one, and included them meeting during and after work, even on weekends, to gather ideas and arguments, and to present them. During all of these hours spent together either in Alexander’s office (because he had the better one, of course he would) or in a café down the street, they decided that it was in their mutual best interest to stop fighting and get something done. And so, without the massive fighting and arguing, Alexander became tolerable, not yet a friend, but no longer a rival.

When asked to describe Alexander Hamilton a few months after completion of their project, having known the man for almost two years, his answer evolved yet again. Amiable, he now liked to call Alexander. After they had finished their project, the routine of meeting every Saturday morning in the small café was so potent that he didn’t even realize that these meetings were done until, one morning, he had ordered both his and Alexander’s coffee, and held the two of them in his hands. Not knowing what to do, he just sat down at their usual table, sipping his coffee, already slightly missing their regular extra-professional get-togethers. But when, a few minutes later, he came face to face with Alexander, also holding two cups of coffee, his couldn’t suppress a smile. And so, they kept up their meetings, became friends. And thus Thomas described Alexander as amiable now.

Had someone asked him to describe Alexander another month later, Thomas would have used the word ‘intriguing’. He didn’t know why, but his thoughts revolved about the younger man more and more frequently. And the more he thought about Alexander, the more he wanted to talk to him, the more he longed for their weekly meetings where they didn’t have to worry or talk about work, but could just be friends enjoying time together.

Were he asked to describe Alexander in one word a further few months later, he would answer ‘dreamy’ with a longing sigh. Alexander was, in his opinion, like a dream, beautiful, but fleeting, like one wrong word, one wrong movement, could drive him away instantaneously. He had long since embraced his crush, although acknowledging that it would never be reciprocated. But he would rather be able to call him his friend than to ruin their friendship, and reduce it to awkward encounters on the office floors. 

If you asked him the same question six months later, after almost three years of bickering and friendship, of longing and laughing, he was able to answer ‘mine’. While saying the word, he would smile blissfully, his eyes shining with happiness, planting small kisses on Alexander’s forehead, cheeks and nose. Alexander would blush, snuggle deeper into Thomas’ warm embrace, forgetting all the problems in the world, both of them preoccupied too much with each other to care about anything else.

If you asked Thomas Jefferson to describe Alexander Hamilton in one word one last time, he would stare blankly into space, dark bags under his eyes, before answering. His voice barely above a whisper, yet still breaking, he would mumble the word ‘gone’. His eyes would turn glassy, tears threatening to roll down his face. Five months. He had had five months at Alexander’s side, and now he was gone and he couldn’t spend another minute with him. He didn’t even get to tell him he loved him one last time. He couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t hold him, couldn’t make him laugh one last time. Alexander, pushy, insufferable, annoying, tolerable, amiable, intriguing, dreamy Alexander, _his_ Alexander, was gone, and there was nothing Thomas could do about it.


End file.
